by R. L. Weeks
My eyes widen. I did not know that!
“You’re kidding.”
He shakes his head. “He forgot to mention that part, huh?” He gets up and paces in a circle. “The year Benjamin died,” he says, “was the same year when Emmett came into a lot of money. Too much, some say.” He holds his stomach. “Either way, the owner of that butcher’s shop after Benjamin’s dad died was hung that year too.”
I gasp. “Why?”
Tom narrows his gaze at me. “He chopped up a bunch of people and sold the meat to the people of London.”
I put my hand over my mouth. “Oh, my goodness!”
Tom nods slowly with wild eyes. “The worst part is, Emmett’s father said that Benjamin was the one who killed all the people for him, but there was no evidence, and the claim was dismissed.”
“I can quite believe that from what I’ve seen,” I say.
“Right,” he says. “Well, I do know that he did love Alice. I found a picture of her in his old flat.”
“So the shadow things that were haunting him followed his child, right? You think Emmett was the child?”
Tom shakes his head. “No. Alice had a daughter, not a son.”
I press my lips together. “Of course. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have something to do with it,” Tom points out. “Today he was talking to some shady guy about how he knows where Alice Pride’s daughter is.”
“Crazy. We need to make sure she really is the killer though.”
He gives me an “are you crazy?” look. “Who else would it be? Besides, I think that Emmett has been helping her.”
My stomach twists. “You really think he’d do that?”
“Why not?”
I pause when I hear a sound in the passage outside the door.
Tom pokes his head around the door. “Just a rat.”
“Ew,” I reply. “Back to Emmett.” I pause, struggling to connect my thoughts. “I don’t think he would intentionally hurt anyone.”
Tom scoffs. “You can’t tell me you trust him?”
“I do!” I admit. “I didn’t, but I do now. He’s…sweet.”
Tom laughs. “Don’t be naïve. He’s using you. I just don’t know why or what for yet, but I will find out.”
“Why don’t we just ask him about all this?”
Tom leans forward. “Why didn’t he tell you any of this?”
I go to speak but close my mouth. He’s right. Why didn’t he? It would have helped with the investigation.
“I don’t want you getting hurt,” Tom says. “It’s too late for me. He hates that I’m here, you know. He won’t tell you that, but he hates that there’s a pair of eyes and ears that he can’t keep tabs on.”
“Tabs on?”
Tom nods. “I think he was stalking you in Cogsworth.”
I laugh. “Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”
“Seriously. He has a bunch of notes about you, your whereabouts, your conversations, everything. It’s all in his journal.”
“You didn’t think to lead with that?” I stand up.
Tom wrinkles his forehead. “I thought the Shaw butcher shop thing was a priority.”
We both freeze as the door creaks open.
“I’m back!” Emmett calls.
I look at Tom. He shakes his head. “Don’t say any of this to him…please, Raven.”
I feel shaky. I do my best to control it as Emmett walks in.
I plaster on a smile that I swear he sees right through. It’s been raining. His hair is covered with raindrops that made it past his umbrella. He pulls off his damp cloak and throws it over the chair Tom is sitting on. “It’s chilly out,” he says. “Were you talking to Tom?” He looks between the chairs.
“No,” I say quickly. “Tom’s not here.”
Emmett’s eyebrows shoot up. “Where is he? Usually, all you do is talk to him.”
I swallow hard. “We had an argument,” I lie. “He’s gone back to Cogsworth to make peace.”
Emmett licks his lips. “I’m so sorry, Raven.”
No, you’re not.
“Thanks.” I pause. “Can I ask you something?”
Emmett sits in the chair. Tom gets up, aggravated. “Sure.”
“You would never lie to me, right?”
Emmett examines my expression. “No, why?”
“Just wondering,” I say. “I mean, if you were ever hiding anything from me, you know you can tell me, right?”
He hesitates and pours himself a drink. “I know, but I also know that sometimes the truth can be painful.”
I glance at Tom, who is shooting me an “I told you so” look.
I look back at Emmett. “Still, I’d always want to know. Bad or good.”
He sits back down and takes a sip of his drink. “I’ll always be honest with you.”
Liar.
“Okay.”
He leans forward. He looks stressed. I swear I can even see a grey hair poking out from behind his ear. “How has your day been?”
I bite my lip. “Boring, really.”
“No more memories?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Good.”
“Why?”
He looks up from his glass. “What do you mean, why? You know why.”
“Do I?” I ask.
“Yes.” He pauses. “I don’t want you dead.”
“You seem to know a lot about it for someone who says he doesn’t know much about it. Also, how do you know so much about Alice Pride?”
He puts down his glass. “If you have something to ask me, Raven, then please just spit it out.”
Tom grinds his teeth. “Stop it. You’re aggravating him. Don’t give it away.”
“Sorry.” I stand up. “It’s been a long day. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He stands up too. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
I step back. “Of course.”
I turn around. “I’ll see you later. I’m going to rest.” I feel his gaze follow me out of the room. Tom follows. I wait until we’re in my room, with the door shut tightly, to talk.
“He is lying,” I whisper. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “He flat-out lied to me.”
Tom looks just as annoyed as me. “I bet he doesn’t want you using your Sight anymore because you came close to the truth.”
I gasp. “Of course. I mean, it’s weird how he wanted me to use it, then just didn’t.” I pace the room. “I’m going back to that church tomorrow. While he’s out.”
Tom sits next to me. “Do be careful though. I mean, I’m not saying he’s completely wrong. You did almost drown last time.”
He’s not wrong. “I’ll be careful. I’ll make sure not to do it in the bath next time.”
He laughs. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid.”
I throw a cushion at him, as I always do. Except for this time, the cushion doesn’t pass through him.
Twenty-Two
Tom stands in the centre of the room holding the cushion.
“How…?” he asks, looking as shocked as I am. After a few seconds, he looks up. “It hit me, Raven.”
“I know.”
“I mean,” he says, “does that mean I am alive again?”
My eyes widen. “I-I don’t know. Try and open the door or something.”
He paces over to the door. I hold my breath. We both do. He pushes the handle successfully. I release my breath and clap my hands together. “This is amazing!” I hesitate on the next part. “Does this mean you’re really alive? How is that possible?”
He reaches out and touches the door. A smile creeps across his face. “Who cares? I can feel again, Raven!”
He hurries over to where I’m standing and touches my cheek. His hand, although icy cold, presses against my cheek. My heart races. His gaze meets mine. I know we’re both thinking it, but I don’t know what to do. My hands are clammy, and I feel like a hundred butterflies are fluttering around inside of me. I pus
h a lock of hair behind my ear.
He smiles, making his cheeks bunch up. “I have wanted to touch you for so long.”
Tears form in his eyes. I could cry too. “I have been blessed.”
“We both have,” I say breathlessly.
He runs his fingers from my cheek down to my neck and pushes my blonde strands over my shoulder. “You are truly beautiful, Raven Pride.”
I flush red. “Stop it,” I say but smile anyway.
“I mean it,” he says. He looks at me with an intensity I have only seen once—when I was on the other side with him for that short time. He holds his breath and leans forward.
“Raven?”
Emmett’s voice crashes around us. I open my eyes and look around. Tom is still standing in front of me.
Oh, no! If Tom is alive, that means Emmett can see him.
“Emmett,” I start, but he interrupts me.
“I was wondering,” he says with a grin, “if you would like to go out for dinner tomorrow evening with me. I know with Tom gone, it must be lonely in here.”
I wrinkle my brows, as does Tom.
“I…” I look around. “Sure.”
Emmett smiles widely. “Perfect. Sorry to disturb you. I will see you tomorrow for dinner at seven. I have to go take care of some business early, so you won’t see me in the morning.”
I nod and watch him leave before turning back to Tom. “I don’t know what to say.”
Tom’s face drops. “Well, I must still be dead then.”
“I’m sorry.”
The second's drag as silence hangs between us. I know we’re both thinking it. We almost kissed, had it not been for Emmett, we would have.
My mind is fuzzy. How can I even trust what I feel is real? I haven’t been able to think straight since Tom appeared outside my house…
Oh my goodness! He appeared outside the butchers. Of course! I don’t know why it took me so long to realise.
“Tom,” I say slowly as the devastating reality sinks in, “I think I know why we couldn’t find your body.”
He sits down. “Why?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. How can I tell him that I think his body has been butchered? “What if the same thing happened in Cogsworth that happened here?”
He looks at me confused for a moment, but realisation sweeps his features. “Oh, God.”
“Oh, God, indeed,” I say.
“I feel sick,” he says.
“Me too.” I cover my mouth. I try to remember back to see if there’s anything I may have missed, a small detail somewhere.
Fresh Meat Sold Here.
I remember the sign and feel bile rise in my throat. “Wait,” I say quickly, “does this mean Alice’s daughter lives in Cogsworth?”
He nods. “She must.”
I itch at the back of my neck. The lace on this dress has been irritating me all day. “Then Emmett must be helping her. You said he said he knew where she is, right?”
He nods.
“So that must mean…” My heart sinks. “He has been handing the orphans from the orphanage over to her to kill.”
He stands up and paces around me. “This is vile! We have to do something.”
“But what?” I ask. “We need proof, Tom. Don’t you remember what happened to Benjamin? He got away with it because there wasn’t any evidence. We can’t just go blabbing our mouths without proof.”
He stops and kicks the desk chair. It goes flying across the room.
“Be quiet!” I scorn.
“He helped!” he shouts. “He’s part of the reason I’m dead.”
“It’s not just him. The two other men must mean that there’s a huge ring of them, like a serial killing group. We have to catch them all. Besides, we have no evidence that it was him.” I pause. “It still doesn’t explain why we’re in London.”
My thoughts flicker back to Nora. Guilt nestles in me. I haven’t even looked for her family.
Tom growls. “Stop defending him!”
I ball my hands into fists. “I’m not! I just want to figure out exactly what is going on so we can get evidence against them.”
He looks down at me with wild eyes and tight lips. “I want him dead.”
“Calm down,” I say and grab his hand, reminding him that I am still here and that he can feel again. “We will solve this, I promise.”
Tears fall from his eyes. He rests his head on my shoulder and starts to cry. I run my hands through his hair and hold him with the other arm. “Everything is going to be okay,” I say over and over until he falls asleep.
Twenty-Three
Blackness covers every inch of the room. I can’t even see my own hand in front of my face. The temperature of the room drops a few degrees. I hear a hiss come from the direction of the mirror. “Who’s there?” I call out into the darkness. I push my feet off the side of the bed, and they hit the cold boards. I reach out for the matches and candle on the side table. I let out a sigh of relief when the room lights in a dim glow. I look in the mirror to see what made the sound, and I am met with something much more terrifying.
Where has my reflection gone?
I see Tom’s reflection in the mirror as he lightly snores, for once being able to sleep. He seems quite human now. The colour has returned to his features, and he’s warmer now. The only problem is that the colour has left me. I look down at my pale hands and bony fingers.
What is happening to me?
I turn around and jump back against the mirror. Several shadow men cover Tom’s sleeping body.
“No!” I scream and reach for him, but he can’t feel or hear me. “Tom, wake up.”
I cannot be a ghost! I cannot be dead!
“Tom! Please!” I use all my energy of Sight to push them away from him. It comes easier than I thought. It’s like an energy I can mould and use with force. Protecting Tom enhances it somehow. I focus all my energy until they dissolve.
I blink twice. The shadow men are gone, and Tom looks more ghost than human again.
“Tom!” I shake him awake. “Get up. I have so much to tell you.”
He reaches out to touch my hand, but it goes right through me. “No!” He tries to grab the candle, but his hand goes right through it. “No!” He screams louder and kicks the chair, but his foot just goes through it. “What did you do?” He points his finger at me.
My jaw drops. “Hey, I didn’t do anything except save you. The shadow men were surrounding you. I pushed them away using my energy.”
He slams his fist through the table. “They must have taken whatever it was that was making me human.”
I press my lips together. “I’m sorry,” I squeak.
“Don’t be,” he says and calms down. “You saved me it seems.”
My heart feels heavy as I realise that he won’t be able to touch me again. “We will still be okay,” I say. “I did promise you.”
He exhales heavily. “Yes. You did.”
We walk out into the bitterly cold weather. Winter has certainly come with all its cruelty. “It’s freezing!” I complain, earning a look from a woman and her husband. I lower my voice to a whisper. “I really need to stop talking to you in public,” I say to Tom with a smile, but he just half smiles back. He’s been so glum since the shadow men came. “Are you ready to go?” I ask hesitantly. “You don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”
He sighs. “No. I can’t leave you alone, not today.” He walks ahead of me. I hurry down the small cobbled street and turn right. The smog is really bad today. I can feel it at the back of my throat.
I narrowly miss a carriage that goes by. It is five AM, which means the streets are not as busy as they will be at midday. The drizzling rain is light, but it makes me colder as it hits my skin. The wind whooshes around me, hurting my ears. I rub my nose, which feels frozen, and am thankful I am wearing gloves, although they do not offer me much protection from the cold.
“Tom,” I say and hurry to catch up to him. “I know you’re upset,
but you still have me.”
He bites his tongue and doesn’t say anything.
“Oh, come on. At least you are not completely alone.”
He halts and looks at me with annoyance. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? Like I should be so damned lucky to be in your presence and have you with me. I’m dead, Raven!”
The harshness of his words slices through me. I try not to cry, and I purse my lips as he continues.
“We can never be together. I’m dead, and you are not. I will always just be a chapter in your long book of things that have happened to you in your life. When and if I am able to move on, I still leave behind a life I wanted to live. I had friends, a family. I wanted so much more than this. I wanted to work on the railways. I wanted to marry and have children.”
A tear slides down my cheek. My heart hurts. “I wish you could have had all of that.”
“It is what it is,” he says bluntly.
I can’t help but feel like he’s purposely trying to tear my heart out. “I can’t lose you,” I say.
“Why?” he asks. “Because I’m the man who gives you attention? That’s what you want, right? Attention.”
I try not to cry, but I can’t help it.
“You always have to cry over everything. You know what…” He pauses and looks around. “I lied. You can do today on your own. I can’t do this. I’m going back.”
“Please!” I watch him walk away. “Don’t go!” I call after him, not caring who hears me. But it’s too late; he’s gone.
I hug myself as the bitter cold takes me. I wipe my tears and turn and walk, no longer caring about the drizzle falling on me. I trudge over the bridge. I look over at the murky depths below and close my eyes. The tears come back, thick and fast. People look at me, but I don’t care. I continue to walk with tears in my vision, blotchy cheeks, and red eyes.
My chest feels heavier and heavier the more I recall his words. How can he hate me so much today when he tried to kiss me only yesterday?
I never meant to make him feel bad or hurt him, and I most certainly didn’t mean to make it all about me. I didn’t even realise I had.
Does Emmett also think I’m selfish?
